


Life is a fickle thing

by iwritetrash



Series: Stormpilot One Shots [21]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Established Relationship, Graphic Description of Injury, Injured Poe Dameron, M/M, Unhappy Ending, if the archive warning wasn't clear on that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 06:59:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7090582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwritetrash/pseuds/iwritetrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn knows full well how quickly life can change, he just never saw this coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life is a fickle thing

**Author's Note:**

> A/N - Okay so I actually entered this in a short story contest (with different names of course, I changed Finn to Nathan and Poe to James - not the best names in the world but whatever) but the results won’t be coming through until October, and I figured I may as well post it in it’s original form for you guys to read! It’s a pretty tough competition, so this might already have been tossed aside and no longer be considered an option for the shortlist, but hopefully you guys will like it :)

Life is a fickle thing. It can change in an instant from a moment of joy and love to one of pain and sadness. Finn has known this since he was six years old, when a trip to the zoo turned into a screaming match between his parents (at the time he thought that the screaming was the worst thing that could possibly happen, but after the screaming came the deafening silence) (they’re divorced now). So yes, life is fickle, swinging from one extreme to the next like a pendulum in a grandfather clock.

That’s how Finn came to be where he is now, hands stained with still-warm blood, an ache in his heart, and a numbness on his skin. He’s still wearing his purple suit, but the jacket clutched between his fingers is as black as the night sky. It doesn’t belong to him (he’s not sure whether he’s talking about the blood or the jacket) (probably both).

Shaking fingers drop the jacket to fumble clumsily over a once white shirt, now tainted a bright scarlet that blossoms right from the centre of the chest that rises and falls in shallow breath under his hands. Desperate words cascade out of his mouth like a stream of heartbroken pleas: ‘Stay with me’, ‘We’ll get through this’, ‘please stay’, and then finally ‘you promised’.

His voice is shaking more than his hands as the words, those fateful words, tumble from his lips like a prayer to any god that will listen: ‘I love you’, followed by ‘you’re gonna be okay’. Then ‘you have to be’. It’s a pittance by way of reassurance, but right now Finn hardly knows who he’s reassuring, himself, or the man bleeding out on the ground beneath him.

Finn’s mind stutters as the man reaches up a shaky hand and gently strokes down his cheek, and Finn knows there will be a bloody trail when his hand falls away. In an instant Finn is taken back to the moment when the man’s hand had rested on his cheek in the same place only an hour before as they kissed under the mistletoe at a Christmas party.

“I love you too, Finn.” The words were barely a whisper as his hand trailed down to lightly cup Finn’s jaw. Those three words from the man he loved would be enough to bring a tear to his eye, if they weren’t already full to the brim.

“Poe.” Finn finally choked out, his boyfriend’s name still sweet on his tongue, even with the bitter tang of tears. “Poe the ambulance will be here soon, just stay with me a little longer. There’s no need for you to say your last words just yet.” Finn cracked a small smile as he reached a hand up to gently push Poe’s hair out of his face, careful not to smear blood on his face as his other hand pressed firmly over the gaping wound in his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Poe smiled weakly. “I promised.” Those words again, bringing forward a fresh memory of bright hospital lights, and lying helpless on a bed, hearing Poe make promises that were made to be broken, and Finn can’t help thinking that this should be the other way round. Shouldn’t the one who’s dying be the one experiencing flashbacks? But maybe a part of Finn is dying with Poe.

Because that’s what’s happening. Poe is dying.

Finn’s no doctor, but he knows what ‘too much blood’ looks like when it’s spilling across the floor. He’s no doctor, but he knows what’s recoverable and what isn’t.

Neither of them can admit it, as though it won’t happen if they don’t say it aloud, so they skate around the truth as the light fades from Poe’s eyes.

When the time comes they both know it, as Poe’s eyes begin to flutter shut and he begins to drift off into a sleep he’d never wake up from.

“Finn-“ Poe started, but Finn cut him off.

“Don’t say it, Poe. Please, don’t say it.” Finn choked out and Poe shot him a sad smile.

“I want to make my last words count. I want them to mean something, and I think I’ve known since the first time I saw you that I wanted you to hear them. Finn, there are some things in life we don’t have much control over, and unfortunately this is one of them, but I want you to know that if I could, I don’t think I’d have it any other way, because I’m so glad to have the honour of dying right here in your arms, and seeing you for the last time. Finn, I love you so much.” A single tear slid down Poe’s cheek a heavy sob wracked his body.

“And I love you.” He replied. Poe shot him a small grin, but within seconds it began to slowly slide off his face as his eyes fluttered shut. “I love you.” Finn whispered again as he leant down to press a soft kiss to Poe’s lips, lifting his hands from the wound, well aware that there was nothing more to be done. Finn cradled him gently in his arms and rested his head against his boyfriend’s chest, not caring about the blood that soaked his face instantly, focusing on the uneven sound of his heartbeat until it stuttered once more, then went silent. Only then did the tears fall, the salty droplets mingling with the scarlet blood around him. “I love you.” He stuttered again, the words playing out like a broken record, whispered on repeat. He kept saying it when the ambulance arrived and the paramedics gently eased him away. He kept saying it when they loaded Poe’s body into the ambulance to take to the morgue. He kept saying it until he lost all sight of Poe.

He clutched gently at the one thing that had been left behind in all the hurry: Poe’s jacket.

Life is a fickle thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Ummm so yeah, let me know if you liked this?


End file.
